Back in my formative years as a cinephile, we had a small group of Polish cinephiles on a Polish film rating site. That was about 10 years ago. The group consisted of a few people who watched a lot of films.
Their film ratings were brutal. They'd denounce most films. The films they did rate high were usually absolute masterworks, I would find after watching them. Though they did overrate some films, they never really gave high ratings to duds. You could say there was a sort of hivemind among them. It's true they had a lot of commonalities in their ratings. But they also had differences. And one only had to deep dive into their ratings to see them. They didn't hate mainstream cinema, they championed something like The Thing. But they also loved the arthouse.
Now, I was different from them in that I was way less strict with my ratings. I also seemed to have loved many more films than they did. Though static and at times dogged, their tastes were great. If it weren't for them, I wouldn't have gone the same way in the cinematic journeys that I did. Sure, I was there. I watched Werckmeister Harmonies, but now what? Their tastes allowed me to get a quick start in the best films of all time. And after that, I could go my own way.
We also had some inside jokes, like claiming that any film that has a long scene of peeling potatoes is bound to be an all-time masterwork. This opinion, needless to say, was proved by two great masterpieces: Bela Tarr's The Turin Horse and Chantal Akerman's Jeanne Dielman.
Anyway, Jeanne Dielman was one of the films they unanimously loved. The thing is, they were a bunch of conservative folk with some opinions edging on misogynistic. And yet they still did find value in the slow rhythms of domesticity that Jeanne Dielman has to offer. I never got to talk to them about this film in particular, but I wouldn't be surprised if they never really thought of Jeanne Dielman as a piece of feminist filmmaking. I wouldn't find it weird that they loved it for its style, its melody, its compulsive routine, its hypnotizing power, and how you can see MORE when contemplating it, how every little detail is of utmost importance.
Whether this is the kind of value that most people will see, and how many of them sincerely like it versus how many go with the flow is another question.
Also, Jeanne Dielman is one of the first Slow Cinema films. I'm not sure if Akerman tried to go anti-cinema, though. That's why I find the implication that it's not a film ludicrous. it is rather a conscious, avant-garde minimalism, sensational anyway.
Their film ratings were brutal. They'd denounce most films. The films they did rate high were usually absolute masterworks, I would find after watching them. Though they did overrate some films, they never really gave high ratings to duds. You could say there was a sort of hivemind among them. It's true they had a lot of commonalities in their ratings. But they also had differences. And one only had to deep dive into their ratings to see them. They didn't hate mainstream cinema, they championed something like The Thing. But they also loved the arthouse.
Now, I was different from them in that I was way less strict with my ratings. I also seemed to have loved many more films than they did. Though static and at times dogged, their tastes were great. If it weren't for them, I wouldn't have gone the same way in the cinematic journeys that I did. Sure, I was there. I watched Werckmeister Harmonies, but now what? Their tastes allowed me to get a quick start in the best films of all time. And after that, I could go my own way.
We also had some inside jokes, like claiming that any film that has a long scene of peeling potatoes is bound to be an all-time masterwork. This opinion, needless to say, was proved by two great masterpieces: Bela Tarr's The Turin Horse and Chantal Akerman's Jeanne Dielman.
Anyway, Jeanne Dielman was one of the films they unanimously loved. The thing is, they were a bunch of conservative folk with some opinions edging on misogynistic. And yet they still did find value in the slow rhythms of domesticity that Jeanne Dielman has to offer. I never got to talk to them about this film in particular, but I wouldn't be surprised if they never really thought of Jeanne Dielman as a piece of feminist filmmaking. I wouldn't find it weird that they loved it for its style, its melody, its compulsive routine, its hypnotizing power, and how you can see MORE when contemplating it, how every little detail is of utmost importance.
Whether this is the kind of value that most people will see, and how many of them sincerely like it versus how many go with the flow is another question.
Also, Jeanne Dielman is one of the first Slow Cinema films. I'm not sure if Akerman tried to go anti-cinema, though. That's why I find the implication that it's not a film ludicrous. it is rather a conscious, avant-garde minimalism, sensational anyway.
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Preserving the sanctity of cinema. Subtitles preferred, mainstream dismissed, and always in search of yet another film you have never heard of. I speak fluent French New Wave.
Preserving the sanctity of cinema. Subtitles preferred, mainstream dismissed, and always in search of yet another film you have never heard of. I speak fluent French New Wave.